


no contact? not even a little bit?

by cthru



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: F/M, Pre-Relationship, Romance, Theron and Cipher Nine exchange emails, how do you tag, rated t for some language, references to Annihilation, unnamed Cipher Nine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 19:38:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13747866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cthru/pseuds/cthru
Summary: Set between 'Forged Alliances' and 'Shadow of Revan'.'Something is nagging her at the back of her mind, she feels like she's missing something when suddenly a brief glimpse of a familiar red jacket at the far corner of the room flashes in her mind and Nine chuckles ruefully. She had dismissed it at the time, chalking it off to wishful thinking but now this message proves her theory correct.She slips further down the bed as she types out a reply.'-'Kriff, he wants to talk to her so badly. Which is ironic because he had been the one to put an emphasis on no contact whatsoever when they were parting ways on Manaan.But, well, Theron has never been too keen on rules.'(Theron and Cipher Nine exchange messages over the holonet when they aren't really supposed to. First chapter is Nine's point of view, second chapter is Theron's)





	1. nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've played this game for years, yet this is the first work I've written for it, haha. Cipher Nine is unnamed in this; there is a brief description of her appearance in the second chapter but you can easily ignore that if you like. Hope you guys enjoy!

She's calibrating her implants when her datapad chimes. She heaves a sigh of frustration and exhaustion, opting to let the message stew for a bit before she checks it.

Nar Shaddaa has always been a hell hole to her. The Hutt Cartel, the Exchange and other low life gangs vying for power in the underworld. She had gone undercover too many times on that star forsaken moon and she knew all too well what went on in the lowest parts of the Promenade. But most importantly, it's where the whole mess with Watcher X started.

So yes, Cipher Nine isn't quite fond of Nar Shaddaa, to say the very least.

Her head is throbbing because of the diagnostics she's running on her face implants but she refuses to bury a stim in her thigh to ease the pain. That idiot thug Buurr she had to kill today for a bounty had turned out to be tougher than she had anticipated and so she had exhausted her supplies of stimpacks. They had given her the edge in battle but as soon as she had left her bounty's hideout, Nine had retched dangerously close to Kaliyo’s feet.

 _You know how to party, Nine, I'll give you that,_ her companion had said with a chuckle.

Nine had been too dizzy to answer.

The analysis datapad finally finishes with her diagnostics and she checks over the list of code quickly. Finding a couple of minor problems, she palms her screwdriver and does the best she can to strengthen the modules that had probably gotten a bit loose while she had been fighting earlier but it's difficult when doing it on yourself, so her handiwork is passable at best. She runs a final calibration before sighing in relief when her headache gradually ebbs away, indicating that her implants are once again functional.

Her personal datapad chimes again and Nine considers hurling it at the glass window of the hotel room but then she spots the bottle of Corellian whiskey in the small bar in the corner of the room and so she drags herself over to it, forgoing a glass and taking a big gulp straight out of the bottle. She makes her way to the bed and makes herself comfortable before finally checking the message.

_< Message encrypted. Would you like to run intdecrypt.exe?>_

Nine’s brows furrow in confusion. Who would send her an encrypted message at this hour? Intelligence has other channels to reach her and her companions are pretty straightforward when they have need of her. Her brain starts turning cogs in her mind while she runs the decryption program Intelligence has been kind to install.

 

_< Message decrypted. Would you like to open the message?>_

_< Yes.>_

_From: <unknown>_

_To: <cipher.ix@impintelligence.net>_

_Subject: <none>_

_you know, I didn't think that an imperial agent would bring a sniper rifle to a vibroblade fight. doesn't exactly scream 'good idea’._

Did one of her bounty’s goons decide that it's a good idea to send a taunting message to her? No, too unlikely, they had all been dead or run away with their tails between their legs when she had been done with the hideout. She takes another swig of whiskey as she thinks back to her op. Her and Kaliyo had dropped off at the Blue Eyes Casino, gotten a couple of drinks at the bar, discreetly surveying the area before making their way to the back where an elevator led to Buurr’s underground hideout. Something is nagging her at the back of her mind, she feels like she's missing something when suddenly a brief glimpse of a familiar red jacket at the far corner of the room flashes in her mind and Nine chuckles ruefully. She had dismissed it at the time, chalking it off to wishful thinking but now this message proves her theory correct.

She slips further down the bed as she types out a reply.

_From: <cipher.ix@impintelligence.net>_

_To: <unknown>_

_Subject: <none>_

_And I didn't think that an SIS agent would risk showing up in the most recognizable jacket of all time in one of Nar Shaddaa’s most popular casinos while he's supposed to be in hiding. Yet here we are._

Her smirk doesn't leave her face the whole time she waits for his reply.

_From: <agent.shan@republicsis.net>_

_To: <cipher.ix@impintelligence.net>_

_Subject: <none>_

_damn, you're good._

_but you didn't answer my question. why'd you bring a sniper rifle to a vibroblade fight?_

_also, fyi, that jacket is amazing. don't pretend it isn't._

Nine laughs louder than she probably ought to. She blames it on the whiskey she's been nursing and forces herself to quiet down as she types out her reply.

She doesn't have the strength to wipe off the smile on her face, though.

 

_From: <cipher.ix@impintelligence.net>_

_To: <agent.shan@republicsis.net>_

_Subject: <none>_

_First of all, Theron, there wasn't a question in your original message. Second of all, if you hadn't noticed I carry a vibroblade with me at all times. I'm always prepared unlike some people who fight Darths in only their underwear._

_That jacket will get you killed if you keep wearing it. Although, it is a nice colour._

_Also, did you really throw you blaster at said Darth?_

_From: <agent.shan@republicsis.net>_

_To: <cipher.ix@impintelligence.net>_

_Subject: <none>_

_still, you had to have known that Buurr is--was-- a melee guy._

_anyway, how the hell did you know about that fight? intelligence has a file on me doesn't it? does it say something about a certain Technoplague?_

_see, not even you can resist the charm of the jacket. no one can._

_and, for the record, me throwing my blaster at at that sith was a strategic decision._

Nine chuckles at the unbidden image of Theron in nothing but his underwear throwing an overheated blaster at a Sith Lord, although the image is blurry since she hasn't had the pleasure to see him naked. She had flirted with him during their brief time working together on Manaan and he had stammered and blushed so wonderfully, so offended at the notion that he may like an Imperial, that she just had to keep doing it. At the end, he hadn't exactly turned her down, so maybe once this whole 'on the run’ mess is over, she could see him again.

Briefly distracted by thoughts of Theron shirtless, it takes a bit of time for the name _Technoplague_ to fully register in her mind. Once it does, though, the clang of the glass bottle of whiskey hitting her bedside table reverberates through the quiet room and Nine's mouth opens slightly in shock. Her fingers start flying over the holo keyboard.

 

_From: <cipher.ix@impintelligence.net>_

_To: <agent.shan@republicsis.net>_

_Subject: <none>_

**_You're_ ** _Technoplague?! The Republic agent who blew up an entire Imperial ship by just slicing it and that has been a general pain in the arse of the Empire for years? Bantha’s balls, I bloody knew it!_

_And yes, Intelligence has a file on you. Apparently two with my recent discoveries._

_Regarding Buurr, well. I do quite love a challenge. Plus, he's lying dead in a heap somewhere, so I think I did well._

_I'm not even going to touch that jacket comment._

_And Theron, love, there is nothing 'strategic’ about throwing your blaster at a Darth. I wish I had been there, though, it would've been an… interesting sight._

Nine tries to imagine Theron at the exact moment he reads her message. Maybe he's also in a hotel room somewhere or perhaps he has already boarded his ship and he's flying back to Coruscant. Judging by his insufferably smug way of holding himself, he's probably leaned back on a chair with his legs propped up, a drink close by.

 

She can't decide which scenario she fancies more - him blinking in confusion and blushing or smirking in delight at the flirt in the end of her message.

 

Her datapad chimes before she settles on one option.

 

_From: <agent.shan@republicsis.net>_

_To: <cipher.ix@impintelligence.net>_

_Subject: <none>_

_yup that's me. i can't believe intelligence hasn't figured it out all these years. well, except for you, i guess. which begs the question - why are you even with them if you're surrounded by idiots? i'm sure the sis has an open spot._

_i never doubted your abilities, Nine. i was just curious about your… technique._

_if you'd been there, things would've been way worse. although i am looking forward to seeing you again, whenever that may be._

 

_From: <cipher.ix@impintelligence.net>_

_To: <agent.shan@republicsis.net>_

_Subject: <none>_

_I'm flattered about the invitation, Theron, but if I wanted to defect, I would've done it the already. The Republic is just as corrupt as the Empire and honestly, I'm too tired of all the shit that's happened to switch to another faction._

_Well, once we see each other again, perhaps you'll get the chance to see my technique up close. I'm looking forward to it, as well._

She hesitates before hitting _send_ on this one because the mere flirtation starts to look and feel more genuine than she'd anticipated and her feelings are starting to get confusing. She tosses around a bit, deliberating her option to rewrite the message entirely but in the end she hits the button and waits for his reply.

Nine pretends she doesn't jump when Theron's reply comes in.

 

_From: <agent.shan@republicsis.net>_

_To: <cipher.ix@impintelligence.net>_

_Subject: <none>_

_i concede your point. but hey - i had to try, right?_

_i’m glad you feel this way because this whole staying low on the radar thing is getting kinda ridiculous at this point._

_by the way, what's your real name, if you don't mind me asking? it’s kinda weird calling you by a number, it's sort of… dehumanizing._

She's long forgotten the whiskey on her bedside table but a considerate amount of it still flows through her veins to make her inhale sharply as soon as she's done reading his message. The fact that Theron, a spy from the Republic, can't wait to see her and know her real name, a spy from the Empire, makes her stomach twist slightly and a small, genuine smile to take over her features. It's such a cliché, star crossed lovers thing but Nine finds she wants to see what this unspoken thing between her and Theron could become.

She’s _excited,_ if she's being completely honest. But she isn't at that moment and so she settles on the word _interested_ in her mind.

Her name, her _real_ name hasn't crossed her mind in _years_. Almost nobody knows it - she's always been _Agent_ or _Cipher Nine_. It's foreign even in her mind, she can't even imagine how strange it would be saying it out loud. But… She somehow trusts Theron.

She wants to tell him.

But a message on the holonet doesn't seem like an appropriate way to do it.

 

_From: <cipher.ix@impintelligence.net>_

_To: <agent.shan@republicsis.net>_

_Subject: <none>_

_My real name has been lost to me for years. It feels like forever since I've been going by Cipher Nine. And yes, you are right, it is dehumanizing, that's the whole point. You're completely devoted to serving the Empire and Intelligence and so you must only have a codename. So, perhaps, you could settle for Nine for now?_

_Maybe one day over a bottle of Corellian I can tell you my real name. But only if you tell mel more about your family tree. The son of the Grandmaster of the Jedi Order and the Supreme Commander of the Republic? I have to know more about that._

_From: <agent.shan@republicsis.net>_

_To: <cipher.ix@impintelligence.net>_

_Subject: <none>_

_you've got yourself a deal._

_i think it's time for us to go to sleep, though. it's late, life on the run isn't glamorous and i’m getting old._

_From: <cipher.ix@impintelligence.net>_

_To: <agent.shan@republicsis.net>_

_Subject: <none>_

_Yeah, you're right. SCORPIO will kill me if I'm not back on the ship early tomorrow._

_And trust me, you're not the only one feeling older than they are._

_Goodnight, Theron._

 

_From: <agent.shan@republicsis.net>_

_To: <cipher.ix@impintelligence.net>_

_Subject: <none>_

_goodnight, Nine._

_< Delete message chain.>_

_< Are you sure you’d like to delete this message chain? This action cannot be reversed.>_

_< Yes.>_

_< Message chain deleted from all databanks.>_

Before she hurls her datapad toward the bedside table, Nine checks the time and groans.

_02:13_

_SCORPIO will have a field day tomorrow._

She banishes the thought quickly and lets the pleasant thrum of tipsiness lull her to sleep. In the back of her mind, Nine notes that Theron had said that it was late and that probably meant that he is on Nar Shaddaa time but she doesn't dwell on it much since her eyelids get heavier by the second.

She drifts off to sleep with a content smile on her face and somewhere on the other side of Nar Shaddaa, Theron does the same.


	2. theron

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theron's point of view. References of "Annihilation" but even if you haven't read the book, I think you'll be fine.

He’s nursing the cut on his lip when the datapad next to him catches his eye.

Now that he’s thinking about it, Theron doesn’t know why he chose Nar Shaddaa when Balkar told him that the Director was close on his heels. He could’ve gone literally anywhere – and yet he chose _The Smuggler’s Moon_ filled with probably the most despicable people in the galaxy.

_Still, it isn’t Tattooine,_ he thinks with a shudder that sends a jolt of pain through his ribs.

Has he cracked a rib? Probably.

He’d laid low well enough but a person gets bored even on Nar Shaddaa. He’d decided to go to the casino and nurse a drink, look at the show that the patrons provided for him – dancers and drunk to their bones sabacc players, but as with most of Theron’s plans, it hadn’t quite gone as well as expected.

Could be worse. He only got jumped by five thugs, not seven like the last time he had been here.

He hasn’t worked out their ulterior motives – them being drunk and just prone to violence seems like the obvious bet – but the more he thinks about it and the more the metallic taste of blood seeping from his lip invades his mouth, Theron thinks they may have recognized him somehow. Could be his implants, could be his jacket, hell his haircut, but he wouldn’t put it past Marcus to use other means to find him.

_Disavowed rogue agent – apprehend on sight._

Theron snorts and then immediately winces as his ribs and lip protest.

The origin of the gang fight he had gotten himself into isn’t bothering him as much as _who_ he had seen at the Blue Eyes Casino. He can’t mistake that short white hair and those sharp and piercing yellow eyes for anyone. He had gotten over the useless pretense that he could never even entertain the idea of liking an Imperial because she is just so… _striking_. When she had first flirted with him on Manaan, Theron had been so surprised that all clever comebacks had died on his lips and he had stammered his way through a denial.

Nine, of course, hadn’t given up.

She hadn’t turned out to be so bad and Theron had found himself thinking of her too many late nights, in which he had to force himself to take a cold shower.

When he had spotted her and her Rattataki companion, he had almost choked on his whiskey. There must have been some sort of reaction, though, because the bartender had given him an odd look to which Theron had responded with one of his signature glares.

(There is a reason why he’s one of the SIS’s best agents.)

The worst kept secret on Nar Shaddaa is— _was_ —that the casino had been a front for one of the worst gang leaders on the moon – Buurr – and when he had seen Nine heading towards the back, Theron had immediately known what she was about to do. He had nearly gotten up and offered to help, especially as how she had been her carrying her signature sniper rifle when Buurr was a vibroblade fighter. He had thought that she was going to be annihilated.

He had seen her half an hour later from the dark alley he had been resting in after taking care of the thugs that had jumped him, looking a little worse for wear but a small, triumphant smile on her face.

_Kriff_ , he wants to talk to her so badly. Which is ironic because _he_ had been the one to put an emphasis on _no contact whatsoever_ when they were parting ways on Manaan.

But, well, Theron has never been too keen on rules.

Before he can change his mind, Theron quickly gathers the kolto and bandages on the small table in front of him and manages to leave them in a somewhat agreeable place in his ship’s medbay. He grabs his datapad and a small vial of Mandalorian _kri’gee_ from his personal stash on the way to the small bedroom tucked away in the back. Before he settles on the bed, he double checks the ship’s security systems and closes the door, so that the chill from the engine coolers doesn’t reach him during the night.

Theron suddenly misses the luxury of Master Dural’s _Prosperity_ but life of a _disavowed rogue agent_ isn’t glamorous.

This time, he manages to keep in the snort bubbling in his throat.

_< Welcome, (T.Shan). Would you like to compose a message?>_

_< Yes.>_

He decides to encrypt the message just to mess with her a bit and to see if she’ll be able to figure out who he is.

_< Run encryption protocol 38475TS>_

_< Please wait… Encryption complete.>_

_Shit, how do I start?_

He hasn’t seen her in a while and he doesn’t want her to think he’s following her…

“Get over yourself,” Theron mutters to himself and goes for what always works between them – banter.

_From: <unknown>_

_To: <cipher.ix@impintelligence.net>_

_Subject: <none>_

_you know, I didn't think that an imperial agent would bring a sniper rifle to a vibroblade fight. doesn't exactly scream 'good idea’._

There. That’s good and vague but also enough of a hint that it’s him.

 

While he waits for her reply, Theron suddenly remembers the liquor his father had introduced him to and so he takes a little sip before immediately coughing and choking.

 

And, of course, that’s when his datapad chimes to let him know he has a new message.

 

“Damned… Mandalorians…” he manages to gasp out between coughs. He had thought that by now he would be tolerant to _kri’gee_ and be able to drink it smoothly but apparently not.

 

Determined until the end, he takes another sip and mentally pats himself on the back when his reaction is limited to only one cough. He opens the message on the datapad, eager to see what Nine has replied.

 

_From: <cipher.ix@impintelligence.net>_

_To: <unknown>_

_Subject: <none>_

_And I didn't think that an SIS agent would risk showing up in the most recognizable jacket of all time in one of Nar Shaddaa’s most popular casinos while he's supposed to be in hiding. Yet here we are._

Theron chuckles to himself and shakes his head.

 

_She’s too smart for her own damned good._

His muscles relax at the familiarity of their interactions and the next message comes to him naturally.

 

_From: <agent.shan@republicsis.net>_

_To: <cipher.ix@impintelligence.net>_

_Subject: <none>_

_damn, you're good._

_but you didn't answer my question. why'd you bring a sniper rifle to a vibroblade fight?_

_also, fyi, that jacket is amazing. don't pretend it isn't._

 

Her reply comes almost instantly and Theron doesn’t know if he should marvel at how fast she’s typing with proper grammar and punctuation or feel smug because he has her whole attention.

_From: <cipher.ix@impintelligence.net>_

_To: <agent.shan@republicsis.net>_

_Subject: <none>_

_First of all, Theron, there wasn't a question in your original message. Second of all, if you hadn't noticed I carry a vibroblade with me at all times. I'm always prepared unlike some people who fight Darths in only their underwear._

_That jacket will get you killed if you keep wearing it. Although, it is a nice colour._

_Also, did you really throw you blaster at said Darth?_

It takes all remaining strength he has, years of training with the SIS and Master Ngani Zho’s meditation techniques for Theron to stop himself from barking out a laugh and shake his head. The fact that Nine knows about his mission aboard the _Ascendant Spear_ doesn’t surprise him one bit but he is surprised that Intelligence knows such details about his state of undress and his poor choice of a fighting weapon.

 

It wasn’t entirely his fault; the barrel was bent from trying to open the goddamned door of the engine room. If he had fired the useless blaster, he wouldn’t be typing with both of his hands at that moment.

 

_From: <agent.shan@republicsis.net>_

_To: <cipher.ix@impintelligence.net>_

_Subject: <none>_

_still, you had to have known that Buurr is--was-- a melee guy._

_anyway, how the hell did you know about that fight? intelligence has a file on me doesn't it? does it say something about a certain Technoplague*?_

_see, not even you can resist the charm of the jacket. no one can._

_and, for the record, me throwing my blaster at at that sith was a strategic decision._

He decides he can tell her the whole story in person.

 

(Theron also reaches a decision on the fact that he shouldn’t dwell on his readiness to share details about his past and personality to an Imperial Agent—one of _the_ best Imperial Agents at that—just after working with her for literally two days.)

 

( _Must be the kolto or the kriffing kri’gee,_ he thinks.)

 

_From: <cipher.ix@impintelligence.net>_

_To: <agent.shan@republicsis.net>_

_Subject: <none>_

**_You're_ ** _Technoplague?! The Republic agent who blew up an entire Imperial ship by just slicing it and that has been a general pain in the arse of the Empire for years? Bantha’s balls, I bloody knew it!_

_And yes, Intelligence has a file on you. Apparently two with my recent discoveries._

_Regarding Buurr, well. I do quite love a challenge. Plus, he's lying dead in a heap somewhere, so I think I did well._

_I'm not even going to touch that jacket comment._

_And Theron, love, there is nothing 'strategic’ about throwing your blaster at a Darth. I wish I had been there, though, it would've been an… interesting sight._

_From: <agent.shan@republicsis.net>_

_To: <cipher.ix@impintelligence.net>_

_Subject: <none>_

_yup that's me. i can't believe intelligence hasn't figured it out all these years. well, except for you, i guess. which begs the question - why are you even with them if you're surrounded by idiots? i'm sure the sis has an open spot._

_i never doubted your abilities, Nine. i was just curious about your… technique._

_if you'd been there, things would've been way worse. although i am looking forward to seeing you again, whenever that may be._

Is he too forward with his flirting? No, right? She had been _very_ forward on Manaan and even now on the holonet. He can’t be misreading her signals. After all, there’s no harm in a little bit of flirting.

 

_Did you just offer an Imperial Cipher to defect to the Republic? Are you insane?_ a voice, suspiciously sounding like Trant’s suddenly pops into Theron’s mind. He elects to ignore it, as he does with a lot of his (former?) boss’s orders and opinions. Plus, he is now a _disavowed rogue agent_.

 

Theron will never get tired of that phrase. It’s hilarious.

 

 

_From: <cipher.ix@impintelligence.net>_

_To: <agent.shan@republicsis.net>_

_Subject: <none>_

_I'm flattered about the invitation, Theron, but if I wanted to defect, I would've done it the already. The Republic is just as corrupt as the Empire and honestly, I'm too tired of all the shit that's happened to switch to another faction._

_Well, once we see each other again, perhaps you'll get the chance to see my technique up close. I'm looking forward to it, as well._

 

 

 

The first thing that Theron thinks is _Nope, I’m not forward with the flirts_ and the second is _I’ll hold you to it_. He finds himself smiling softly once he rereads the last sentence of her latest message for the seventh time and there’s this dull ache somewhere in his chest that he isn’t familiar with. Well, at least, not familiar with associating it with Nine. But then, he doesn’t mind it as much as he had wanted her to think so the last time they had seen each other.

 

He really does miss her.

 

_Shit, I’m in trouble._

 

Still, he decides to take a chance and ask her something a bit more personal and see if maybe, just maybe, she might feel the same.

 

_From: <agent.shan@republicsis.net>_

_To: <cipher.ix@impintelligence.net>_

_Subject: <none>_

_i concede your point. but hey - i had to try, right?_

_i’m glad you feel this way because this whole staying low on the radar thing is getting kinda ridiculous at this point._

_by the way, what's your real name, if you don't mind me asking? it’s kinda weird calling you by a number, it's sort of… dehumanizing._

 

 

 

 

_From: <cipher.ix@impintelligence.net>_

_To: <agent.shan@republicsis.net>_

_Subject: <none>_

_My real name has been lost to me for years. It feels like forever since I've been going by Cipher Nine. And yes, you are right, it is dehumanizing, that's the whole point. You're completely devoted to serving the Empire and Intelligence and so you must only have a codename. So, perhaps, you could settle for Nine for now?_

_Maybe one day over a bottle of Corellian I can tell you my real name. But only if you tell me more about your family tree. The son of the Grandmaster of the Jedi Order and the Supreme Commander of the Republic? I have to know more about that._

 

 

_From: <agent.shan@republicsis.net>_

_To: <cipher.ix@impintelligence.net>_

_Subject: <none>_

_you've got yourself a deal._

_i think it's time for us to go to sleep, though. it's late, life on the run isn't glamorous and i’m getting old._

 

 

_From: <cipher.ix@impintelligence.net>_

_To: <agent.shan@republicsis.net>_

_Subject: <none>_

_Yeah, you're right. SCORPIO will kill me if I'm not back on the ship early tomorrow._

_And trust me, you're not the only one feeling older than they are._

_Goodnight, Theron._

 

_From: <agent.shan@republicsis.net>_

_To: <cipher.ix@impintelligence.net>_

_Subject: <none>_

_goodnight, Nine._

 

_< Clear message history? This action cannot be reversed.>_

_< Yes.>_

_< Message history cleared. Would you like to continue?>_

_< No.>_

 

Theron sighs deeply when he places the datapad on the little nightstand next to his bed and ignores the pain in his ribcage. Seemingly on their own accord, his fingers press a discrete button on the cybernetics near his left eye and immediately, a wave of relief washes over him. Coupled with some meditation exercises, Theron manages to completely forget about his injuries before settling down on the bed and lying on his back as to not aggravate them more.

 

He wonders if Nine had noticed that he kinda gave away that he’s on the same moon as her.

 

His thoughts drift as his eyelids grow heavy but they still orbit around her. As his lips unconsciously widen a fraction into a smile and before he fully falls asleep, he wonders if somewhere on the other side of Nar Shaddaa Nine does the same.


End file.
